Resistance to Chocolate and Counselling is Futile
by DaydreamerNightwriter
Summary: Two Enterprise men discover in their own ways how irresistable Deanna Troi can be. And no, it's not what you think.


**Authors note: I do not own the characters or any of the familiar phrases used within this story, it's all courtesy of Paramount and whoever owns Star Trek at the moment.**

**I would like to add that I'm not sure where this came from, and it didn't develop exactly as I planned - it was supposed to be another chapter for 'Just Good Friends' - anyway, I hope you like it, and if you don't, well I'm sorry!**

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'Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated.'

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Will Riker shot up in his bed, the robotic voice of his transformed captain still echoing in the recesses of his mind.

"Computer lights." He grated. He shielded his eyes as he was temporarily blinded by the bright white glare of the lights, but as his eyes grew accustomed he glanced around at his chronometer, he had just over two hours before his shift. Groaning, he decided that there was little point in trying to sleep some more. The dream would just continue to haunt him, and he would awaken more tired than he had been when he came to bed in the first place. He swung his feet out of bed and pulled on half his uniform, tucking the other half over his arm to put on in the Turbo Lift.

He didn't dream very often, but when he did they were either very good, or very bad. This one had been the latter, and given the fact that he had an uncanny knack of being able to step straight back into the dream, he decided that leaving his quarters was the best possible option; he needed to be as far away from his bed as possible. In his state of distraction, he didn't notice when, in the Turbo Lift, a young ensign glanced appreciatively at his torso, tightly clad in the beige and black of his uniform undershirt. This state of distraction also made him ignore her blush as she realised who she was eyeing up, and as she disembarked on the next floor she was torn between a feeling of rejection that he hadn't noticed her and feeling glad that he didn't report her for flirting with a senior officer.

He was in Ten Forward before he even realised it, and he suddenly became aware of Guinan standing in front of him, peering at him in concern.

"Is everything alright, Will?" she asked. He jumped, still not used to the way she had suddenly begun referring to him by name since his field commission to Captaincy in the absence of Jean Luc Picard. He nodded slowly as she placed a glass of prune juice in front of him. He looked at her quizzically. "Worf has christened it a warrior's drink. I thought it might help settle your thoughts towards the battle tomorrow." He nodded again and took a quiet sip. "There's a table free in the corner, no one should bother you over there." She said kindly, sensing his need to be alone. He rose without another sound and made his way to the corner that she had indicated.

He sat there thinking about his bad dream, about how staying awake wouldn't really help him escape it, the dream was created from the reality he had now found himself in, there was no escaping the true terror that his captain, his mentor, his guide and friend had become. Sinking his head in his hands he barely noticed the doors swoosh open or the woman who came through them. She went to the bar and Guinan silently handed her a tray and pointed to the darkened corner. She walked over and placed the tray on the table.

"Can't sleep?" she said quietly as she pulled a chair out.

"No. You neither?"

"Well, it's a little difficult, there are all these noises… a lot of people are scared Will. It's a little overwhelming."

"I hadn't thought of that." She smiled at him.

"I didn't think you had. I was starting to block them out, I had nearly gotten to sleep, and then this overwhelming rush of images and emotions hit me. I thought I should come to the rescue of the person it was coming from. So I followed the trail of emotions, and here you are."

"Here I am huh?"

"I thought you might like some chocolate." She settled back in her chair biting into a milk chocolate truffle.

"Chocolate?"

"The answer to all life's problems." She smiled at him.

"Really?"

"Well, it definitely does help you feel better. Would you like to talk about the dream? You were sending it to me, unconsciously I presume, it was, scary and insightful. You've been keeping such a tight hold on your feelings I wasn't sure how you felt, but now…"

"Deanna." He said, a warning tone in his voice.

"Ok… how about the young ensign who was stuttering apologies to me when she came out of the Turbo Lift?"

"Ensign?" Before explaining, Deanna chose another chocolate and picked up the mug of hot chocolate.

"She apparently got in the Turbo lift with you, and was worried that she would be in trouble. I can see why." Deanna leaned back again, raising one appreciative eyebrow and smiling at him. He glanced down at his chest and chuckled at his apparel.

"Guess I forgot to get dressed properly. At least I remembered my… shoes." Deanna's laugh mingled with his own, both knowing what he had been about to say. He stopped and looked rueful. "Which ensign was it? Maybe I should go and apologise to her. Was she pretty?"

"No, Will. I think that we should finish your chocolates, and then I'll walk you back to your quarters, come in briefly to make sure that your room is peaceful enough."

"How briefly?" Will asked with a cheeky grin.

"Briefly enough that there will be no suggestions. Although, I'm glad to see the old Will back."

"Hmmm. Fine then." He pouted. "It's the chocolate that did it you know."

"I told you, chocolate heals all." She finished her mug of hot chocolate and put the lid on the chocolates. "Come on Commander, we've got a big day tomorrow." She stood up and offered him her hand. Standing he tucked it through his arm and they walked out of the lounge together, the box of chocolate tucked under Deanna's other arm. As the pair walked out they gained a few speculative glances, mainly from the new additions to the crew, whilst the other more seasoned _Enterprise_ crew looked at them with a slightly knowing smile, but with the knowledge that the Acting-Captain and the Ships Counsellor were just very good friends.

When they reached Wills quarters Deanna wandered around, gathering up all of the Padds with anything regarding, or even slightly eluding to the current situation. She found the majority in his bedroom.

"No wonder you can't sleep." she commented, almost to herself. In the shower-room where he was getting changed Will smiled.

"I heard that." He called back through.

"Well, its true." She replied, half angrily. "How do you expect to be able to relax and sleep in here with all of these battle plans and injury reports in your room, as bedtime reading? You're the most impossible ridiculous man I have met in my life."

"But you still love me." he said scrubbing his hair as he came back in. She tutted loudly and he laughed. "Deanna, you know that there is no point in lecturing me on this. I'm in charge of the ship. I have the lives and wellbeing of 1000 souls to look after; I can't afford not to be reading all of this."

"You also can't afford to not be sleeping. We need your A game Will. The captain is gone, we don't know if we'll be able to get him back, ever. He's a drone, and no-one has ever come back from that. Tomorrow we're joining the fleet, and we're going into battle, and our Captain needs to know exactly what he's doing, and not be tired." He started to speak but she overrode him. "_Especially_ if he is the Acting-Captain. Will, all the Admiral's will be watching this ship. We're the flagship. In essence, we are their A-game. If you do well, it means commendations, promotion, medals. You need to sleep; so march your sorry arse into that room and go to sleep. To make sure you do, I'll be on the sofa."

"Deanna." He said stepping closer to her. "Thank you. "

"You're welcome. Goodnight." She pushed him away to the bedroom. "Goodnight." She said firmly. Will opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then seemed to think better of it and turned away.

As he fell asleep his last thought was that with Deanna resistance really was futile.

_**Weeks later:**_

He stood in the centre of the room. It was pitch black, silent but for the sound of his breathing. It would have been simple to turn the lights on. One simple utterance of one simple word, but he preferred the darkness. The darkness seemed to salve his soul, the silence cleansed his mind. In this silent black room he was finally at peace. Finally he could think clearly about the events most recent in his mind.

He knew, without asking, without truly thinking, where his colleagues, his friends would be.

Worf would be in the Holodeck, working through the demons of the past weeks in his callisthenics program.

Data, he thought would be most likely found in Engineering, solving an algorithm or another problem with Geordi.

Beverly would be checking her patients, the ones who were there because of him.

Deanna would be going through her notes, sending requests of appointments to those who would need it. His own console pinged jarringly in the silence, informing him that his own appointment memo had arrived. The noise disrupted the peace and he moved towards the sound, through the darkness to sit at his desk, in his chair. _His_ chair, at _his_ desk, in _his_ Ready Room, on _his_ ship. The words created uniqueness, an identity, and possessions that were his and his alone.

He sat at the desk, savouring the silence and the darkness, hoping that his First Officer would not come in. he could feel the dampness on his cheeks, knew that he was feeling emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time, was glad the darkness hid his tears, was glad that his pain was at last hidden from the view of knowing eyes.

He rubbed a weary hand over his cheekbones, wiping away the tears, feeling the newly grown skin, the slight rise where the implants had been expertly removed by Beverly. The feel of them, these new aberrations on his face, reminded him that he knew it would not last forever, this pain in the solitude. He knew that he would soon be surrounded by his worried friends and companions, thus destroying the solitude; he knew that the memories of the events would soon begin to fade, the pain would lessen. He was glad that he had this knowledge, that he wasn't suffering from feelings of true depression where the pain felt as if it would ever stop hurting, but just for now, there was the pain and the darkness and the solitude.

To all intents and purposes, a Betazoid counsellor had been a God send, due to the empathic nature of her Betazed heritage she seemed to manage to appear wherever she was needed, at the precise moment of crisis for each patient. And for those she couldn't attend to herself, she and Beverley had developed a system in which Deanna would send the name of the patient to Beverley and Beverley would send a nurse to aid them.

The console pinged again and he sighed.

"Computer, lights." He opened the two messages on his console. The first was a simple memo requesting both an appointment and a confirmation that the memo had been read and the appointment would be attended. The second was a longer message, signed by both Ships Counsellor Deanna Troi and Chief Medical Officer Beverley Crusher informing him that if this appointment was ignored, in the same manner as the three he had already avoided, he would be relieved of duty, effective three minutes into the appointment. He knew it was a highly inappropriate reaction but he allowed himself to smile slightly as he thought to himself that when it came to Deanna, Will was right… _resistance was indeed futile_.

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Edit: sorry about the ending, I wrote it all in one go and it kind of fits together, loosely. Hope I didn't confuse you too much!


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